


Wrong Voice Note

by panda_shi



Series: The Wrong Moves [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cell Phones, Cute, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Meet-Cute, Modern Era, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_shi/pseuds/panda_shi
Summary: Tenzou and Iruka are officially dating for a little over a month. But because of their working hours/schedule, it's a little hard to find some time for theloving. That is, until, Iruka sends the wrong voice note. By accident.
Relationships: Umino Iruka/Yamato | Tenzou
Series: The Wrong Moves [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104614
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Wrong Voice Note

**Author's Note:**

> Self beta'd.

Happiness, according to the great and wise Mahatma Ghandi, is when what you think, what you say and what you do are in harmony.

Although Tenzou leads a very humble lifestyle by choice, he thinks he is happy.

Material things doesn’t bother him. His small shoebox of an apartment certainly isn’t something to sing high praises about. If he’s being honest, he really should just move to a new place. The plumbing in this apartment isn’t the best and while he can afford a better place, he’d much rather not over spend unnecessarily when the bulk of his retirement funds is to be used for tuitions fees at the academy. Tenzou didn’t really care much about the old two seater sofa and forever reclined lazy-boy chair (the mechanism broke; that’s what you get for getting third-hand goods). He doesn’t care much for the old television either because frankly, with his working hours at Mos Burgers, he’s more likely to watch his shows on his phone (and passing out halfway) rather than the television.

When you grow up in the military and the black-ops, you develop almost no attachment to your surroundings. Tenzou has kept that belief. He can move out tomorrow and he won’t have to worry about the contents of his apartment; he’s more than okay to leave it behind either to dispose of or just hand it over to the next tenant if they want it (he inherited most of the furniture already present).

So no, he didn’t care much for his living space; it has never been a source of his happiness. Maybe, except, for like, his two potted ferns. He’s been nursing them back to health ever since he found the two pots dumped unwantedly by his apartment dumpster. With a little tender loving care, the ferns flourished and now stand perched side by side under the only window by the foot of his bed.

He’d take those two pots, for sure.

Otherwise, Tenzou can conclude that he is happy.

Happy because he had Iruka in his life.

Making Iruka smile and having that smile directed at him is the highlight of Tenzou’s day. Even a short video-call will be enough of a balm to the ache in his arms from kneading too much dough, or the soreness in his lower back and feet from standing up for too long. Things would have been easier if he had, for example, taken up body guard jobs the way some of his former black-ops teammates had (Kakashi). He may have faired better if he decided to be a fitness trainer like one of his former teammates (Gai). Hell, he probably could have done better if he worked as a bouncer in one of the clubs that is actually owned by former black-ops (Genma and Raidou). He certainly would have had more flexibility and more time to meet with Iruka. And not just every Wednesday night.

He'd definitely have time (and energy) to make love to Iruka, too.

The thought of that makes Tenzou _sigh_.

They’ve only gone on a total of four dates including that incident at the park with Mizuki. Four dates means, officially, they’ve been dating for a month, give or take. For the most part, Tenzou has successfully kissed Iruka on succeeding three dates post the Mizuki incident.

And boy, kissing Iruka is like… it’s like free falling endlessly in a very, _very_ good way.

Tenzou knows what it feels like to ride air, to plummet downwards to the earth with nothing to anchor you but the parachute strapped to your back. Jumping off planes, to Tenzou, is about as exhilarating as it can get; nothing beats it. He gets the same rush as he would if were to jump thousands of meters off the earth’s surface as he would whenever he presses his lips upon Iruka’s. It’s the best kind of adrenalin rush.

Iruka kisses like nobody Tenzou knows. Iruka kisses with fire, heat, and _want_. Iruka kisses like it’s his last moment, his last breath, always all encompassing when it comes to unbridled passion. Tenzou will never forget their first kiss together.

They had just seen a movie before the spring rain decides to pour in thick sheets from the sky. They had to duck under a small overhead covering in front of a closed down clothing boutique, their clothes just a little damp but not exactly soaking wet. Iruka had been laughing at that moment, shaking his head as he tells Tenzou how silly it is of a teacher like him to not bring an umbrella, when the weather-app did forecast a slight possibility of rain. Tenzou isn’t sure what it had been, but in that moment, as he stared at Iruka’s profile, the curve of his smile and how he grins at the phone screen, double checking the weather app, which makes Iruka crow and flash Tenzou a sheepish smile, holding out said phone screen.

This may take a while, Iruka had said, rubbing the edge of his scar, completely unguarded, no walls erected to safeguard any vulnerability.

Tenzou doesn’t know what it had been in that moment. But he remembers staring at a tendril of Iruka’s bangs, clinging wetly to his temple and neck. He remembers reaching out of brush it back, tucking it behind Iruka’s ear, his fingers warmed by Iruka’s skin, said fingertips brushing down the slope of Iruka’s neck, where Tenzou presses his palms and had leaned in to kiss Iruka.

It had been nothing but a short kiss, chaste, Tenzou’s lips just ever so slightly clamping down on Iruka’s lower lip, warm and soft before he pulls back. Iruka had looked at him with an expression Tenzou can’t quite forget. Gentle, open, warm, perhaps just a touch vulnerable, his eyebrows knitting in a hint of insecurity, given everything that’s happened between him and Mizuki. Tenzou had smiled at that, pressing their foreheads together, their noses brushing, before he presses his lips again to Iruka’s cheek and pulled him under the safety of his arm, keeping him warm as they waited, side by side for the rain to stop.

That brief kiss had left Tenzou tingling for the hours that had followed during their meal, their train ride home and him dropping Iruka off at his door step.

It had turned to free falling when Iruka had leaned up and pressed his lips over Tenzou’s, chaste at first but soon had Tenzou leaning against the safety railing opposite Iruka’s front door, his arms around Iruka as Iruka more than selfishly, takes all of the air in Tenzou’s lungs for himself.

He’s not even sure how he had managed to walk straight to the train station after that kiss.

Nor is Tenzou sure how he even got home without being run over by a car after their second kiss on their third date and their third kiss on their fourth date just last week. Tenzou swears he had not heard or felt anything. And that’s saying something considering last week, he had walked home in the spring rain, tracked water all over his apartment, and left an interesting wet patch the shape of his ass on the sofa when he had flopped down on it, his lips still tingling from Iruka’s kiss.

He thinks of Iruka all the time.

He wants to do nothing but be in Iruka’s presence and orbit all the time.

He works hard at Mos Burgers just so that Wednesday would come by quickly so he can see Iruka, kiss Iruka, _do_ Iruka. Or well, _hope_ to do Iruka.

Tenzou concludes, that this must be what happiness is. Black-ops, apparently, are notorious for either ending up in the mental ward, getting sucked up in the underworld, or getting arrested for bad decisions. After all, no one gets out of the black-ops intact.

All things considered, Tenzou thinks he’s done incredibly well with this whole integrating into society thing.

He had a job. He had an apartment (a tiny one with shitty plumbing but hey, living space). He isn’t starving and he keeps well and fit (he hasn’t grown a Homer Simpson beer gut yet). Best of all, he had the most fantastic boyfriend. That Tenzou has only jerked off to. Like every night. Without fail. And that one time, live, on the phone, after their first date. Like a creep.

Gods, he’s repressed.

He hasn’t had sex since he’s been on that assignment in Wind before his retirement. It’s been _months_. And now it’s biting him in the ass.

Okay, so, it’s a little wrong to base one’s happiness on their sexual fulfillment. But if one ignores that little detail, it really isn’t all that bad.

He _is_ happy.

*

So happy in fact, that he doesn’t give a rat’s ass that Iruka is texting him in the middle of the night.

Tenzou had fallen asleep on his bed watching a television show on his phone, and now jerks a bit to consciousness when he registers his phone’s pings and vibrations where it had automatically locked on his chest. Blinking away the sleep from his exhausted eyes, Tenzou blearily lifts his phone up and opens Iruka’s message. It’s a series of voice notes, one after the other.

Thinking it must be some sort of emergency, Tenzou scrolls to the first voice note, sits up while rubbing an eye and presses play.

The first message starts off quiet. Until that is, Tenzou hears a very slow, long, deep breath. That tapers off to a _moan_. His eyes widens at that, sleepiness fucking off right out the window, because that doesn’t sound like a pained moan. Or maybe it is. But that very moment is accompanied by a thump, a shuddering breath and then another thump. The voice note ends.

Tenzou stares at the voice note that follows, which is slightly shorter in time compared to the first. He presses play, his entire room flooding with a breathless throaty keen _,_ and a shuddering moan, followed by what sounds like a rhythmic thump, thump, thump, thump—it cuts off.

Tenzou _knows_ what’s happening.

He just doesn’t want to believe it’s happening.

The next voice note is outright lewd, punctuated by the continuous, rhythmic pound of what Tenzou is now assuming is some sort of furniture, hitting the flat surface, each _thump_ , followed by Iruka’s breathless cry of ecstasy, loud, hoarse, and in the background the squelching noise of something slick being pounded into flesh.

Tenzou remains motionless, ashamed that his cock is hard just by listening to Iruka moan in wanton pleasure as he – is he with someone? Is he getting fucked by someone?

Something about that makes Tenzou’s insides churn and _clench_ , his throat constricting and going bitter as he hits play on the next voice note in queue.

**_“Tenzou, ahh, Tenzou, fuck, fuck, ah, fuck – yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me hard, oh gods, Tenzou­— hmnnn oh gods, Tenzou, Tenzou, T-Tenzou ahh!”_ **

Well.

Okay.

Uhmm.

Tenzou isn’t sure what to make of that.

Other than his ego involuntarily swelling and puffing its chest out like a body builder flexing in admiration in front of a mirror.

The next few voice notes are of Iruka wantonly begging for Tenzou’s cock, asking him to fuck him harder, singing high praises about Tenzou’s cock and how amazing it feels. Tenzou is forced to sit there, going through every single voice note until he sees a video has been sent just seconds ago.

Tenzou wishes he never hit play.

He wishes he never saw just how Iruka is getting fucked because now, there’s just no going back anymore.

Right there, the video shows Iruka bent over on all fours, the angle a little awkward because the phone is right under Iruka’s hand. Iruka’s face is pinched and flushed, his entire body rocking violently, as he the resounding thumps continues to punctuate every lewd cry, every wanton begging moan and noise, every praise for the imaginary Tenzou that Iruka has in his mind. And then Iruka is shuddering, arching his neck and coming with a cry so loud that Tenzou is pretty sure his neighbors would have heard him. Tenzou then watches, with bated breath, as Iruka adjusts himself, his hand pushing the phone away, something that gives Tenzou a clearer view of the bed, where Iruka detaches a long, dark green dildo from the headboard. A dildo that he imagines to be Tenzou’s cock.

Fuck.

Fuck, Tenzou buries his face in his hands, dropping his phone on his lap, as his ears rings with Iruka’s pleasured cries.

He picks up his phone to maybe call Iruka, or maybe message him back, maybe admit the fact that the way Iruka sounds, the way he had so desperately fucked himself to completion on his dildo is easily, hands down, the hottest thing Tenzou has ever seen.

Except he notices how the messages are being deleted from the chat window, one by one. The video too. Which is pointless on Tenzou’s end because he’s already seen it. He had his media on automatic save and download, so it’ll be in his gallery, something he changed because Iruka sends the funniest videos; he wants to keep some of them.

And then, silence.

No message.

No voice note.

No call.

Tenzou shudders as he slowly pushes his blankets away. Iruka would be feeling humiliated right now, probably burning in shame at what he had just pretty much broadcasted. Tenzou doesn’t think Iruka should be when it is easily something wonderful, beautiful and honest. With little to no shame, Tenzou props himself up on the headboard, pulls his hard cock free, gives it a bit of a stroke until the pre-cum beads and drips from the head of his cock down the throbbing length before he snaps a selfie.

A selfie of him holding his cock.

Looking right at the camera.

As if it were possible to leap through the phone, cross some dimension and somehow land somewhere with his cock in Iruka’s ass.

**Looks like I got no choice.**

Tenzou texts, attaches the selfie and hits send.

The message appears as read within seconds.

**Well that’s not fair.**

**You’re using a green stick-on dildo to fuck yourself. A lot of things are not fair.**

**You’re making me hard. Again.**

**Am I?**

A full minute later, an image pops up. Tenzou taps it to download and is greeted by Iruka sitting on the edge of the bed, facing a mirror, legs spread wide open and hard cock in hand. His dark boxers are on the floor, his hair left open and falling over a shoulder, some spilling over a dusky nipple, his eyes dark as he stares right at the mirror and into the lens of the camera.

Tenzou sucks in a deep breath, staring at the picture as he continues to lazily stroke himself, before he switches apps, opens his call log and calls Iruka.

Iruka picks up on the first ring, gravel in his voice.

“ _Tenzou_ …” Iruka answers, the syllables of Tenzou’s name betraying more than it should.

“Do you have _any_ idea, what you do to me, Umino Iruka?” Tenzou asks with a sigh, a weight being lifted off his chest as he put that thought across.

“I seem to have an idea now…” Iruka sighs, shuddering on the other end of the line. That small release of breath makes Tenzou grasp his cock a little harder, his teeth gritting. “I was starting to wonder…”

“Wonder?”

“If you wanted me at all,” Iruka murmurs, inhaling deeply, slowly. Like he’s trying to control himself. It makes Tenzou close his eyes, sucking in a deep inhale through parted lips, pre-cum dripping and smearing all over the length of his hard flesh. “I’ve been hinting left and right. I thought you were just clueless. It’s charming, cute even. The first few times, that is. But then— I mean, do _you_ have any idea what _you_ do to me?”

“I don’t think I can compete with your dildo, Iruka,” Tenzou says, huffing a bit of a laugh, chin tipping to the ceiling.

“Oh I think you’ll do fine,” Iruka murmurs, his voice silky, whisper-soft. “You’re a lot bigger than my dildo…

“Most people would be a little intimidated,” Tenzou admits, speaking from experience. Some get enthusiastic about it. Some get afraid. By the time they’re fucking, it really doesn’t matter. Still. His creamy hunter is capable of injury if he’s not careful. Tenzou hasn’t forgotten how many pussies has turned a little loose or how man asses he’s managed to sort of tear when he’s not careful.

“Hmmmm, do you want me to be? Is that what you think I’ll be when I’m finally under you? Scared? Demure? Is that what turns you on, Tenzou?” Iruka practically breathes the question, his voice thick with desire that it completely changes Iruka.

Tenzou can only imagine the heat, how it’ll brush against the shell of his ear if Iruka were physically here, whispering those words to him.

“I don’t think it matters, whether you’re feeling shy, or forward,” Tenzou responds, stroking himself languidly, hissing through his teeth, something that gets punctuated with Iruka visibly inhaling deeply on the other end of the line, a small throaty moan leaving Iruka, echoing clearly from the other end of the line.

“Do you – do you touch yourself often? Thinking about me?” Iruka asks, a little shy, a little hesitant, almost as if he’s walking on eggshells.

Which Iruka really shouldn’t be.

Tenzou doesn’t want Iruka to be intimidated around him. He wants the man he saw in that accidental video, the one who had no inhibitions, gave fuck all on who can hear him, as he fucked himself raw and hard on his stick-on dildo, rocking with an unbridled passion that paints his cheeks and throat a crimson red, leaving his jawline pulled taut, exposing the tendons and veins around his neck, as silky hair fluttered and stuck on to the thin sheen of sweat around his neck and chest.

“Iruka, remember our first date? And you called me?” Tenzou remembers that call. Gods, does he remember that call. “I was masturbating to the sound of your voice. I came to the sound of your voice. Does that answer your question? Or does that make me a creep?” From the other end of the line, Iruka makes a small throaty gasp, which is followed by salacious squelch that makes Tenzou press the phone to his ear closely. “Iruka…?”

“I’ve lost count how many times I imagine you to be talking to my ear while I either fuck myself on a dildo or stroke my cock,” Iruka admits, a tad breathless.

“Is that what you’re doing now?” Tenzou asks, finding a steady rhythm with his hand as he pictures Iruka to be sitting on his lap, straddling him, his warm legs pressing against Tenzou’s sides, ass sliding along the length of his cock, teasing him, moving up and down, as Tenzou strokes his hard flesh.

“I – I have my dildo, and I wish it was you,” Iruka _sighs_ , the sigh tapering off to a shuddering gasp, something that makes him _keen_ , “Oh gods, _Tenzou_ …”

Tenzou’s throat is as dry as Wind’s desert, as vivid images of Iruka sliding his cock into his ass floods him, flashing like movie reel behind his scrunched eyelids, his hands slowing in its stroke, just _so_ , just enough to imagine Iruka’s tight heat wrapping around this throbbing flesh. “Tell me…”

“I’m on your lap, your hands on hips. I’ve got your cock in me, deep inside, all the way in. You’re big, you’re thick… gods, Tenzou, _you feel so good_ ,” Iruka _moans_ , and suddenly cries out loud, the cry tapering out to something hoarse. “Do you like that, Tenzou? Do you like it when I tell you these things? How good you feel? How I want you to _fuck_ me until I can’t walk, fuck me that you’re the only one I’ll think off for the next several days. _Fuck me_ that I can’t sit or stand, or anything in between without thinking of how your thick cock filled my ass, how you filled me with so much cum that I couldn’t – I couldn’t just – oh _gods_ —“

Tenzou shudders, pre-cum squirting out of the head of his cock, making a hot clear mess all over his lower abdomen, thick, copious, gossamer strands connecting fist of abdomen in clear webbed lines. He’s going to have to change his pants later, toss his sheets into the wash too. Tenzou didn’t care. He only cares that Iruka seems to be fucking himself on his dildo again, his breath hitching in sync with each of his thrust.

“Gods Iruka,” Tenzou says in between gritted teeth. Fuck his shift at Mos Burgers. Fuck his working hours too. He should make more time to _be_ with Iruka. “I wish you were here. Right now. On my lap, fucking yourself…”

“Do you want to watch me?” Iruka suddenly asks, staggered breaths loud in Tenzou’s ear, leaving the curve of his earlobe hot, as if it Iruka were right there, his soft lips brushing against the shell of Tenzou’s ears.

“ _Yes_ ,” Tenzou shudders, biting his lower lip, pushing his head further down on the pillows.

Iruka promptly hangs up and only to call right back on video call. Tenzou swipes the answer button and right there, on the screen, he is greeted by the sight of Iruka on the floor, legs spread wide open, between his legs the stick on dildo from earlier, except its firmly held in place on the wooden floor boards. Iruka is chewing his lower lip, one hand coming up to swipe the length of his hair to one side, his hips rolling languidly against the length of his green dildo, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. Tenzou _swears_ he almost comes then, his fingers wrapping into a tight fist at the base of his cock, firmly staving off the orgasm, fighting for some control, as he breathes forcibly slow through his nose, past the grit of his teeth, his finger switching his front-camera on. Almost immediately, he sees Iruka shudder, his shoulders hunching at the sight of Tenzou’s own flushed face, the dark desire that must be so obvious in his eyes.

“Oh gods, Tenzou, I wish you were here,” Iruka murmurs, placing one hand on his lap, his other hand coming up to touch his nipple, flicking at the dark nub, moaning around the gesture. “I wish your mouth was on me, my nipple, to feel your hands on my body, your teeth on my skin…”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Tenzou honestly debates just calling a Grab or an Uber at this time of hour and making the commute to Iruka’s apartment, hard on and all. He can wake up just as early from there and still make it to his shift at Mos Burgers.

“Don’t be shy on my account,” Tenzou says, “I want you to fuck yourself like it’s my cock. Like you’re here, on my lap.” Tenzou gives his cock a squeeze, before stroking.

Iruka listens, his hand reaching forward to adjust the propped up position of the phone, his legs spreading wider, one hand bracing on the side of the bed, the other on his lap. Tenzou watches, with nothing short of fascination as Iruka lifts himself up from his dildo and slams himself back down, shuddering and crying out when the tip of the dildo must have brushed against his prostate. It surely must have, given the angle of Iruka’s hips. Iruka does it again, and again, and again, and soon he’s bouncing up and down on his dildo, fucking himself and spilling out Tenzou’s name with each thrust and brush against his prostate, while Tenzou’s fist strokes with a ferocity and speed to match the pace of Iruka’s own thrusts. Tenzou watches as Iruka’s own cock and balls slap on the ground with each downward thrust and pull of gravity, how it sways and slathers pre-cum all over his abdomen, that is still streaking with white cum from earlier, making Iruka dirty, and fuck, even more fucking _beautiful_. Gorgeous!

Tenzou can hear himself pant, can hear the growl at the base of his throat, his knuckles white as he grips the phone, staring at it, watching Iruka with a hunger that leaves him heady, his surrounding melting to nothing, a separate reality all together because here and now, there is only him and Iruka and this long distance between them, the absence of each other’s warmth, the real brush of fingers, of tongue on skin, of Iruka’s ass on his cock – fuck, fuck, fuck, Iruka isn’t slowing down at all.

“Tenzou, oh gods, Tenzou, Tenzou, Tenzou—fuck, fuck—Tenzou, Tenzou, I’m close, I’m going to come, oh gods, Tenzou, don’t stop, please don’t stop—“

Tenzou _growls_ , his fist pumping against his length, matching the wanton requests spilling out of Iruka’s mouth, watching Iruka as he rides that silicon length that Tenzou wishes was his own cock, wishes that they were there together, in person and not connected by this digital reality.

And then Iruka is coming, his hips arching, his lower abdomen twitching as he slumps backwards, legs so obscenely wide as ribbons of white splatters out, all over the floor and his chest. Tenzou watches that, watches it with a hunger, committing every detail to memory as he strokes, strokes, strokes, fuck, strokes, strokes and then he’s coming too, long and hard, the force of his orgasm tearing a _growl_ from somewhere in his chest, his chin tipping to the ceiling, back arching off the bed, the camera following his movement, because he wants Iruka to see. To see just what he does to Tenzou, the extent of his effect, how he reduces a man who has been trained to kill, murder, topple governments and on more than one occasion, sovereign countries.

To be reduced to this thing that is merely flesh and pleasure, white hot cum jetting out in thick ribbons, all over his abdomen, the ferocity of it even making some of the cum reach Tenzou’s chin.

Tenzou _hisses_ , sucks in a long inhale, before he slams back down on the bed, sagging with relief and turning his gaze back on Iruka. Iruka who remains spread wide and beautiful, watching him with something soft in his eyes, something glassy in his gaze, ruddy lips parted.

With his throat constricting, Tenzou watches, as Iruka trails a languid finger up, from his abdomen all the way to his chest, taking cum and pre-cum at the tip of his finger, and then puts that finger into his mouth.

“You taste good,” Iruka _whispers_.

Tenzou can only _moan,_ scrunching his eyes shut and thumping his head once against the pillow. “Fuck…”

*

They clean up and reconnect a few minutes later.

Tenzou is under the covers, foregoing any clothing, while Iruka is back on the bed, lying on his side, as they stare at each other.

“I didn’t want you to think I was only interested in sex,” Tenzou offers. “I really do like you, you know? And after your experience with Mizuki…”

“I appreciate that,” Iruka says, smiling and snuggling deeper into his pillow. “I really do, Tenzou. But now that we’ve done this, maybe we can do more? I really do want to feel you in me.”

“ _Iruka_ …” Tenzou scrunches his eyelids shut, his stomach swooping inwards with an arousal that he really doesn’t need right now. He’s going to be thinking of Iruka all day, all the time (not that he wasn’t already); but after this, it’s going to be a problem handling his pants-skyscraper at his place of work. He can’t exactly tell people he accidentally dropped the rolling pin in his pants. “I finish late tomorrow. And I don’t want to keep you from your rest. You have a class to teach—“

“—why don’t you come over?” Iruka cuts him off. “We can try to make this work, you know? Besides, look at what we did just now? It’s late anyway.”

“But you teach—“

Iruka rolls his eyes. “I can make time for you, Tenzou. Besides, even if we don’t fuck, I do like being around you.”

“So do I,” Tenzou admits, his heart skipping several bits at that admission.

Happiness. This must be what happiness feels like.

“Tomorrow then?” Iruka asks, confirmation, eyes glimmering in the dim lighting of his room.

“Tomorrow,” Tenzou nods. “Go to sleep, Iruka. I’ll be here…”

Iruka yawns and nods. “Okay…”

Tenzou watches Iruka fall asleep, waiting for his breath to even out. Only when Iruka’s breaths comes out long and deep does Tenzou end the call. And texts:

 **Can’t wait to see you tomorrow**  
A penguin with a heart emoticon.  
  
*

The next morning, Tenzou wakes up feeling strangely energized.

And a text message from Iruka that says:

 **Good morning, handsome**  
A happy egg waving emoticon  
  


What follows the message is a picture of Iruka naked, towel around his neck, one hand patting his hair dry with said towel, his entire weight resting on one leg, one hip just ever so slightly cocked in coy invitation. Iruka has a cheeky grin on, like he knows _exactly_ what he’s doing, the little shit. On queue, Tenzou’s stomach tightens, his lower abdomen swooping inwards, as blood rushes down to his groin and whoop, there it is; his mighty oak is hard, heavy, and reaching for the sky.

Well two can play this game.

Iruka would be on the train by now.

Biting his lower lip, Tenzou bolts up to his feet. He makes room to free up the space in front of the wall mirror that came with the apartment. There is a large crack at the bottom that Tenzou covers with his laundry hamper, but that doesn’t stop him. Tenzou pushes the hamper away, stands on his side, sucks in a deep breath and grabs his cock in his fist.

The timely picture manages to capture his lopsided smile. He sends the photo, followed by a penguin blowing a kiss emoticon.

He should definitely invest on a selfie-stick.

Tenzou sets up a reminder to pick one up from the accessory store across Mos Burgers.

*

Tenzou is in the middle of stroking himself to a blissful orgasm, his cock ruddy and hard under the fall of warm shower when something rattles beyond the tiled walls. It doesn’t distract Tenzou per se, not when he’s touching his nipple and imagining it to be Iruka’s tongue, his hand stroking his cock as he imagines Iruka’s ask sheathing him, Iruka’s voice in his ear.

You feel so good, Tenzou, gods, Tenzou, I want you – harder- harder—

The gurgle and rumble is accompanied by metal banging against concrete, something that distracts Iruka’s lovely voice and his nutting when he’s already reaching the apex of his pleasure. Tenzou pumps his fist harder, pinches his nipple with a little more force, scrunching his eyes tighter, chewing on his lower lip, relishing the spray of hot water.

When something cracks, gurgles and _explodes_.

Something hard, cold and metal conks Tenzou right on the forehead, making him snap back to reality a little too late as he slips and comes falling down like a fallen house of cards, taking the curtain rod, shower curtain and all his toiletries. What follows is a jet spray of high pressured water, something that hits him on the thigh, and when he moves, his abdomen, making Tenzou blearily look up at the ceiling, wondering if the building has been bombed, his hand grappling for purchase over something solid, something sturdy.

He manages to grab the edge of the toilet seat, his entire body squeaking on wet tiles as he pulls himself away from the high pressure eruption of water, his head spinning rapidly, something warm trickling down his face— fucking great, a head injury in the middle of being attacked. Just fucking great!

Tenzou manages to pull himself towards the door way, keeping low, staying on the ground, dragging himself towards the kitchen cabinet where he keeps a pair of Sig Sauers, unstrapping the Velcro holder from where he keeps his weapon for safekeeping right under the sink, pulls it free and sits himself to the best of his ability against the only thing with metal paneling in his kitchen – the stove.

Not that the stove would provide any sort of adequate cover. It won’t exactly withstand a barrage of bullets or a grenade.

Still.

Water _pours_ out of the bathroom, flooding the kitchen and living room and fuck, fuck, the electrical sockets. Tenzou pushes himself up, his head _throbbing_ and bleeding, gets himself up on the kitchen counter just as the entire ceiling of his bathroom and living room comes tumbling down on his floor.

Tenzou cowers to the corner of his kitchen counter, his legs barely missing a block of collapsing concrete before something fizzles and the safety mechanism clicks. The main power goes off, flooding Tenzou’s apartment to dimness, save for the sunshine pouring from the now cracked living room window and from the floor above.

Where two adult heads and a smaller head are now looking down at him.

The mother quickly covers her daughter’s face, just as Tenzou sticks the guns under his legs and covers his modesty with his hands.

Okay so.

_What the fuck?!_

*

The fire department shows up.

The police shows up.

The landlord shows up.

And Tenzou finally puts on a pair of pants that isn’t wet. He manages to find a t-shirt too, the rest of his belongings buried in rubble. At least his flip-flops were spared. His going out for dates with Iruka shoes and work sneakers are now soaking wet and floating somewhere by the pool the bathroom has created.

Whatever panic he had for being evicted is promptly extinguished because this is not his fault. It seems that the landlord was given a warning to make adequate repairs and reinforcement on certain units but had failed to do so. Which, unfortunately, means Tenzou’s suffering, his neighbors above him suffering and apparently, the same thing happened to doors down.

Tenzou knows that he wasn’t very attached to anything in his apartment.

But he didn’t expect to be rendered homeless, deposit and compensation for the damages in hand. He can’t even salvage clean underwear under all the concrete, mud, water, wires and whatnot.

Sighing, Tenzou picks up whatever he can of his clothes, his weapons and thank fuck, some of his legal and identification documents that he had the sense to keep in a box at the topmost kitchen cabinet. His neighbor is kind enough to provide him with a grocery tote bag for his small handful of belongings. He is given a towel to dry off with by another neighbor. Tenzou foregoes the offer of coffee and tea, as he tries to make his phone work. Another elderly neighbor who is a retired nurse insists on administering first aid on the cut and swollen lump on his forehead. He couldn’t even save the ferns! Fuck!

“Can I borrow a phone? I need to call my place of work,” he asks his neighbor, the one who had asked him if he had wanted some tea or coffee, while the elderly lady Miko-san, gently pats disinfectant on his forehead with a cotton-soaked betadine solution.

Thank fuck for considerate bosses.

Even though she spends the first few minutes laughing at his predicament like a jackass.

She gives him paid leave off for the day, but anything further will be unpaid. _Come back when you’re on your feet,_ she says, _we’ll handle the bread._

He ends up accepting that offer for coffee. Gods, he’s going to need that caffeine kick.

*

By the time Tenzou manages to secure a new phone and restore his settings and information, he is sitting in a laundromat, in damp clothes, working his way down a ham and cheese sandwich, reeking a little of damp clothes and concrete rubble. People have been avoiding him, throwing him strange looks and with reason. He’s not exactly pleasant looking. It just so happens that the shirt he had pulled on had been from the laundry hamper. There is a ketchup stain on the front and well, there’s a reason it had been on the laundry hamper, after all.

Rubbing the back of his head and looking at the time, Tenzou decides he can start looking for a new apartment. Or at least some sort of motel to stay for the night. No way he’s letting Iruka shoulder his burden like this. He may have to cancel that evening date after all.

His heart heavy, Tenzou switches to the messaging app, only to find Iruka spazzing in numerous texts in reaction to his naked picture that morning.

 **That isn’t fair!**  
A crying egg emoticon.

 **You can’t just send me hot pictures like this and expect me to be okay!**  
A shaking fist egg emoticon.  
  
 **I mean I know I started it.**

**But that isn’t fair!**

**You look photoshopped!!!!@#$%%**

**Gods you’re so hot!**

**I miss you and I want you already!**

**This isn’t fair!**  
A crying egg emoticon.

Tenzou reads all this with a swell of affection in his chest, warming him and somehow just making his horrible day just a touch better. That is Iruka’s power. He can make you smile just the tiniest bit, crack through the toughest armor with his honesty and earnestness. Iruka’s emotions comes from a good place, a pure place, and just reading his reaction where he must have been typing furiously in the train makes Tenzou weak, soft, almost vulnerable, as he sits there hunched over his phone, listening to the hum of the dryer spin his clothes to a semblance of proper decorum.

 **I may have to cancel our date tonight. My apartment ceiling and bathroom exploded and collapsed.  
  
So I may be homeless.  
  
I’ll make it up to you. I promise.**  
A bowing for forgiveness and guilty penguin.

Tenzou swallows with guilt.

He had been really looking forward to spending the night with Iruka, too.

Stupid ass plumbing!

*

Tenzou is in the middle of staring at a sign that reads ‘bed-space for rent’ when his phone rings; Iruka is calling. Looking at the time on his phone, Tenzou realizes that it’s lunch time already when he swipes to answer.

“Hey,” Tenzou greets.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Iruka asks, sounding worried, the noise of children playing echoing in the background.

“I’m fine,” Tenzou says and explains the situation in better detail; the plumbing problem, the warning that had been issued to the landlord, and how all his belongings are pretty much done for save for about a pair of jeans, two sweatpants, a tank top and a t-shirt. Now all clean, drainage pipe water and stain free thanks to the laundromat.

“Oh goodness,” Iruka sounds empathetic. “You’ve had such a hard day! I’m so sorry you had to go through all that and all unnecessarily too!”

“No one was hurt,” Tenzou assures, unable to stop himself from smiling. “I’m okay, Iruka. Don’t worry.”

“I’d come and give you my key – goodness, _hey, no, no don’t throw sand! No sand! Naruto!_ ” Tenzou listens to Iruka erupt to spontaneous lecture, at a child give excuses and him saying to go play on the monkey bars instead. “Sorry. I’d – ugh, look, if you can take the train and come over, I can give you my apartment key. You can use the quiet space, ground yourself and stay until you find a place to – _Kiba, no!_ ”

Tenzou is biting his lower lip, ducking his head, his feet carrying him off the sidewalk to a quiet alley, where he leans against the wall and listens to Iruka lecture the kid Kiba once more about throwing sand. Iruka is apologizing again, for doing his job when Tenzou shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. Look your hands are full as it is. You don’t need me to be added to the mix—“

“Tenzou, if you think for a second that I am going to let you wander in the streets and rush into a decision about finding your own place just to end up with another disaster, then you have another thing coming. Come get the keys! I won’t take no for an answer! You poor thing, you must be so exhausted! _Naruto! Kiba!_ ” Iruka _yells_ , which is followed by stomping feet.

Tenzou has to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment, chuckling a little. “Okay, I’ll make my way there.”

“Great! Give me a call once you’re here! I’ll come out!” Iruka sounds like he’s smiling.

He really is perfection personified. How in the hell did Tenzou even end up with a great guy like him?

(Mizuki is a fucking idiot!)

*

Tenzou pointedly does not approach Konoha Kindergarten and or any of its surrounding fence, opting to stand across the street by the bus stop instead. Which thankfully, is currently empty. He refuses to approach the school grounds looking like a hobo lest someone reports him as a suspicion man prowling the premises with a lot of children. With his state of dress, tousled hair that he tries to pat down to some sort of decency (and fails, of course), and his now thankfully no longer wet rubber flip-flops, Tenzou looks like he’s been living under a bridge somewhere.

And damn this ketchup stain really is embarrassing.

Tenzou gives himself a bit of a sniff and frowns.

He debates just not calling Iruka.

But then that would mean risking upsetting Iruka. An upset Iruka is an unhappy Iruka. And an unhappy Iruka means that he too, by default will be unhappy. Tenzou stares at his phone log for a long time, debating if he should call Iruka. He doesn’t hear children playing anymore which means, the lunch recess must be over. The play ground is empty and visible from where he’s sitting under the shade of the bus station.

Which means, Iruka must be in class.

It wouldn’t do to distract Iruka when he’s in the middle of class.

Frown deepening, Tenzou decides not to call Iruka and text him instead.

 **I’m here. Bus stop across the main entrance.**  
Penguin waving emoticon.

The text message remains unread for a full ten minutes before Iruka responds.

 **Okay! I’ll be there! Sorry for the late reply! One of the kids tried to escape the classroom!**  
A bowing in apology egg.

**Take your time. No rush.**

Tenzou remains there, under the shaded warmth of the bus stop until he hears foot steps approaching him. When he opens his eyes, he finds Iruka hurrying across the street, dressed in dark blue pants and a light yellow tucked in shirt, a pair of brown shoes and a brown belt, looking lovely as ever. Put together as ever. Beautiful as ever.

Tenzou sets the grocery tote bag filled with what little of his belongings he can salvage, gun straps and holsters wrapped in newspaper and buried under all the folders and clean clothes, about to stand but Iruka beats him to it. A protest and warning that he’s filthy leaves Tenzou’s mouth, only to be cut off when Iruka bends over, cups him by the jaw with his hands and silences him with a kiss.

“Hi, handsome,” Iruka greets, cheeky dimpled grin in place.

“Hi…” Tenzou answers intelligently, a bit dazed from the kiss.

“Oh Tenzou,” Iruka sighs, sitting himself beside him, quickly pulling out his keys, tugging one of them free. “You must have had such a hard day. You said no one got hurt! What is this?”

Iruka’s fingers are on the butterfly clips on Tenzou’s forehead, brushing the first aid dressing gently. “I think one of the plumbing nut bolts hit me from when it exploded. I was in the shower.”

“That is so dangerous! And irresponsible of your landlord! What if you ended up with a concussion?” Iruka huffs, flushing in anger on behalf of Tenzou that leaves Tenzou feeling like he’s floating in mid air, affection lifting his mood immediately. Suddenly, everything seems better, warmer, brighter, the pain and swollen lump on his head forgotten. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m okay now,” Tenzou says, reaching to grasp Iruka’s hand in his, bringing Iruka’s knuckles to his lips to press a long, lingering and affectionate kiss. It leaves Iruka blushing. “Iruka-sensei has rescued me~”

“Oh stop,” Iruka chuckles, placing his other hand on top of Tenzou’s. “I better head back. Or they’ll set my classroom on fire. But I’ll see you in about three hours?”

“I’ll wait for you,” Tenzou murmurs, and closes his eyes when Iruka leans over to press a kiss to his jawline.

“Great! See you then.” Iruka stands, gives Tenzou’s hand one last squeeze before he gets up and crosses the street back to the kindergarten campus.

Tenzou waves back when Iruka waves once more by the gate, his heart soaring to the sky as he once more, wonders, how lucky he is to have Iruka in his life.

*

Iruka’s apartment is just slightly bigger than Tenzou’s by about a meter and a half.

It isn’t exactly spacious. But it’s better organized.

The walls are painted off white, no paintings or pictures mounted. From where Tenzou stands by the main door and genkan, the far end of the small space is lined with glass windows with roll down white drapes. Iruka’s double bed is wedged against the wall on the right, tucked behind two long chest drawers where a decorative lamp, and empty flower vase and candles lie on top. Under the window is a small shelf tucked with a small stereo, right by the bed, a stack of books under it. There is a book shelf on the opposite wall of the bed, a study table, a pair of wooden chairs, and a floor lamp. Built in shelves are lined with photographs tucked in picture frames, a few trinkets and what looks like an old music box. The shelf is over stuffed by paperbacks and reference books. To Tenzou’s left, is the kitchenette, three overhead cupboards, some drawers, a small sink, a double ceramic burner and a small washing machine/dryer right there in the middle. Iruka’s fridge is wedged against the wall by his study table, where on top of it is the microwave and a small rice cooker. On the opposite side of the fridge is a door that is left ajar, betraying the small connecting bathroom within. By the window, there are three small pots of succulent plants, alive and thriving, right next to the small tv stand and thirty-eight-inch monitor.

The smell of citrus and laundry detergent clings to the air and just a hint of Iruka’s day cologne.

The space is so Iruka - organized with a penchant for tardy messiness. There’s a bowl and spoon in the sink, unwashed along with a cup of coffee. Iruka must have rushed this morning. Maybe he had woken up late given they had fallen asleep quite late the night before.

Tenzou stares at the floor space beside the bed, and pointedly does _not_ think about how Iruka had been on that floor space, fucking himself on his green dildo. Come to think of it, the bed must have been thumping against the chest drawers, when Iruka had rode it the night before, on all fours.

Flushing to the roots of his hair, Tenzou clears his throat and steps into the connecting bathroom, where he finally is able to finish his shower and soap the day’s stress away. When he steps out and changes to dry clothes, Tenzou takes a seat on the bed, staring out the window, feeling a little better now that he’s isn’t dusty, his clothes spinning in the washer.

He doesn’t realize how he falls asleep like that, legs dangling on the edge of the bed, head turned away from the sunshine pouring through the window, lulled to a sense of relaxed comfort by the scent of orange and cinnamon clinging to Iruka’s sheets.

*

He wakes up to fingers in his hair, and Iruka looking down at him with a smile.

Well shit.

Tenzou jerks, and is pushed down to relax with a gentle hush as Iruka presses his hands on Tenzou’s chest.

“Hi,” Iruka greets.

“Hi,” Tenzou murmurs hoarsely, thickly, looking out at the window and noticing the very late afternoon sun.

He also notices how Iruka isn’t in his work clothes anymore. That Iruka is in a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt instead. Iruka also has a leg thrown over Tenzou’s gray sweat pants clad thigh.

“I must say, you’re quite the sight to come home to, spread like this on my bed, looking so inviting and handsome, in gray sweatpants. I have a weakness for hot men in gray sweatpants. You sure know how make to a man happy,” Iruka teases, leaning down to press a slow kiss to Tenzou’s chin.

“Is that what you see?” Tenzou smiles, canting his head, staring up at Iruka. “You sure you don’t see a hobo, hogging your bed?”

“Are you hearing any complaints?” Iruka asks, brushing fingers over Tenzou’s hair. “You didn’t even hear me come in. You must be so tired, my poor boyfriend.”

Tenzou inches higher up on the bed, grabs Iruka by the tight and _yanks_ him over and top of him, Iruka’s laugh filling the space of the small studio. “Your apartment is cozy and comes with a fantastic view, I must say.”

“Is that so?” Iruka grins, straddling Tenzou, his hips rolling over Tenzou’s groin once, twice, making Tenzou’s hand slide down to Iruka’s hip where he _grips_ him there.

“How’s the rent here?” Tenzou wonders, the question actually coming out serious.

“Not bad. I mean, I can afford it and I don’t make much,” Iruka shrugs. “Why, are you considering perhaps living close by?”

“Would you like that?” Tenzou asks, perfectly serious, reaching up to brush Iruka’s damp hair off his face, tucking it behind an ear.

Iruka doesn’t answer immediately, flushing a little to the roots of his hair. “I can’t tell you what to do…”

“That wasn’t my question,” Tenzou gently points out.

“I know – I just – I don’t want you to rush into things you aren’t sure of. I mean, you can stay here, too, we can split the rent, if that helps, you can try it first, see if it even works for the both of us while you find your way to – “

Tenzou presses his fingers to Iruka’s lips gently, shushing the rapid flow of words that comes out in a nervous tumble. “Iruka, would _you_ like that _?”_

Iruka pauses, biting his lower lip, a furrow appearing between his brows. “I think I would. Besides, you’ll be moving to the Academy dormitories once you resume classes in the fall. And we don’t spend enough time together, as it is, what with our schedules. And I - I really, _really_ like you, Tenzou…”

Tenzou’s chest is suddenly too full, filled with a warmth that makes his throat constrict, that makes his palm cup Iruka’s cheek. Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe it’s too quick. But they’ve known each other for a long while now as friends, as individuals. They’ve been dating for a little over a month.

Tenzou will be on the other side of Konoha, away from Iruka in a few months once he joins the Academy.

It doesn’t seem like a bad compromise on both of them.

Besides, being with Iruka makes him happy.

“Then I am in your care, Umino Iruka-sensei,” Tenzou says, the words whisper-soft. “Please take care of me.”

Something glows warm and bright in the depths of Iruka’s eyes, something that makes him look ethereal, wonderful, breathlessly _beautiful_ as he bites his lower lip, which then pulls to absolutely incandescent smile, warmed by golden late afternoon sunshine pouring through windows. Tenzou is parting his lips when Iruka leans over to kiss him deeply, slowly, relishing, Iruka’s fingers pressing over the warm curve of Tenzou’s neck, as Tenzou’s hands travels up his sides, sliding up and down and snaking under the cotton shirt, to finally, _finally_ press against the warm, smooth expanse of Iruka’s skin.

The kiss deepens, heats up, as Iruka breaks it just enough to tug his shirt off his head, tossing it behind him and leaning over to kiss Tenzou again, their hips rolling against each other, arousals swelling to full and heavy mast under the confines of their shorts and sweatpants. It leaves Tenzou breathless, being under Iruka like this, watching him through barely parted lids, watching pleasure paint a wondrous expression on his beautiful face.

Iruka’s fingers snake under Tenzou’s t-shirt, tugging it up and over the arms Tenzou raise above his head, arching his upper back off the bed for Iruka to pull it free.

“I’ve been thinking of you all day,” Iruka whispers, the words _hot_ against Tenzou’s ears.

“Oh have you now?” Tenzou _grins_ , reaching up to gather Iruka’s hair in his hands, relishing the feel of silk in his palms. He loops it around his hand once, twice, before he grasps Iruka by the back of the skull and _pulls_ him in for another demanding, open mouth hot kiss. “Iruka-sensei having naughty thoughts while teaching?”

“Shut up,” Iruka _hisses_ , his face going scarlet.

Tenzou laughs, a deep rumble in his chest as he shifts on the bed. “Why don’t we put your riding skills to the test instead, hmm?” Iruka’s breath hitches at that, his lips parting as he stares down at Tenzou, his pupils blow wide, heat and want and fire burning in to an all encompassing inferno of need. Tenzou finds himself consumed by that, burning with it, his blood rushing down to his cock, as pre-cum stains and darkens his sweatpants. “Let me watch you come like this…”

“O-Okay…” Iruka says breathlessly, chewing on his lower lip, leaning down to kiss Tenzou with a grin and chuckle that melts to something giddy, excited, earnest and wonderful.

They pull their clothes off like excited teenagers, pants and shorts ending up in a pile on the floor, as Iruka reaches for under the pillow for a tube of lube that is half full, something he shrugs at and uncaps with his thumb. Tenzou watches him with rap interest as he slides down the length of Tenzou’s body, straddling one thigh, coating Tenzou’s cock with both hands, lips parting in soft exhalations, as he caresses Tenzou’s throbbing length with both hands. There’s something marveling in Iruka’s gaze, something almost entranced, as he coats Tenzou’s cock liberally with lube, licking his bottom lip.

“Too much?” Tenzou asks, reaching to caress Iruka’s knee, rubbing gentle circles over his knee cap.

“I can’t wait,” Iruka murmurs, the flush going down the column of his throat, spreading over his chest, and segueing off into his abdomen. “You’re so fucking hot, Tenzou…”

“And you’re beautiful,” Tenzou whispers, gently, marveling, worshipping. “So fucking beautiful, you have _no_ idea.”

They kiss again, lips mashing as Tenzou sits up and grabs Iruka, using all his strength and seating Iruka between his crossed legs, securing Iruka’s legs around his hips. Like this there is little to no space between them. Like this, they are chest to chest, cock to ass, and it’s easier for Tenzou to reach down and finger Iruka’s ass. It’s easier for him to pry the lube from Iruka’s deft fingers, squeezing some onto his finger tips and push the slick digit past the ring muscle. Like this, he can feel every shudder, every exhaled and inhaled breath Iruka takes. When Iruka wraps his arms around Tenzou’s shoulders, pressing Tenzou’s forehead to his chest, Tenzou can feel the _rumble_ of the syllables of his name, breaking past Iruka’s lungs and throat, out into the small space, cozy space of their soon to be shared home.

Tenzou pushes a second finger in, reaching deeper, deeper, until he finds what he’s looking for and caresses.

Like this, in his arms, Iruka _keens_ , his _groan_ directed at the ceiling, chin tipped up, neck elongated – beautiful. Like this, Iruka releases control, surrenders fully to Tenzou’s fingers, his lips that dip down and circle around a nipple, flicking tongue and teeth that makes Iruka shudder in his grip, ass clenching around his fingers in a vice, tight, so, so fucking tight.

By the third finger, Iruka is a mess – a begging hot mess, garbled syllables of Tenzou’s name pressing against the shell of Tenzou’s ear.

 _Oh gods_ , Iruka says. _Please, oh please, Tenzou, I can’t,_ Iruka reasons. _Gods you feel good, Tenzou,_ Iruka breathes.

Tenzou pulls his fingers out, one quick and almost reckless yank, leaving Iruka spasming on his lap, his abdomen flexed, lines of muscle pulled taut as Tenzou lifts his mouth off Iruka’s nipple and catches his mouth in a searing kiss once more. They kiss like that, cocks rutting against each other, until Iruka reaches down with hands, takes hold of Tenzou’s lubed cock and breaks the kiss. Just enough for him raise himself over Tenzou’s cock, thigh muscled flexing and clenched tight with anticipation.

And then he’s lowering himself on Tenzou’s cock, sheathing himself over the thick length, bit by bit, lower and lower, his mouth parting open as he descends down to kiss Tenzou parted and waiting mouth, _moans_ being sucked out of Iruka’s mouth as Tenzou _devours_ him, one hand spreading over Iruka’s hip, steadying his eager pace, urging him to be careful.

Until Iruka is fully seated, his chest heaving, flushed, a glazed look in the brown depths of his eyes, something that Tenzou stares into, pressing their foreheads together, wrapping an arm around Iruka’s back, pulling so, so close, kissing him, peppering kisses over his face, his jaw, his chin, his neck.

“You feel _good_ , Iruka,” Tenzou murmurs, the words a heated whisper that sears against Iruka’s skin, punctuated by a bite mark that leave teeth indents and Iruka moaning wantonly in his arms.

And just like that, Tenzou is fucking Iruka, rolling his hips up and into Iruka’s tight body, into that heat, that pleasure. Iruka pushes him down all of sudden, making Tenzou bounce on the mattress and pillows, as he presses their chest together and bounces his ass over the throbbing length of Tenzou’s cock, up and down, up and down, Tenzou’s fingers grasping and _slapping_ the globe of his ass, make Iruka arch and _cry_ out into their kiss.

Tenzou does it again, and again, each slap on Iruka’s ass making him pound down Tenzou’s length harder, faster, hungrily, greedily, taking all of Tenzou’s cock in his body, Iruka’s own balls slapping over Tenzou’s abdomen, the girthy length sliding over Tenzou’s stomach.

Tenzou’s fist is around that cock, stroking in synch with each rolling wave of pleasure that Iruka delivers. Iruka who pulls up from the kiss, bracing himself on Tenzou’s chest, hips rolling with a desperate ferocity, his shoulder hunched, jaw slack, panting with the effort, Tenzou’s name falling repeatedly from his mouth, as Tenzou’s strokes him, strokes him, fuck, fuck, Iruka is so hot like this, so beautiful like this, so fucking beautiful.

Tenzou is _growling_ and sitting up, pushing Iruka up on the wall by the bed, Tenzou’s hands hooked under his knees, forcibly holding him wide open, right there, on the wall, with Tenzou kneeling on the bed as he pounds into that tight ass, that burning heat, while Iruka just hangs there, forearms on Tenzou’s shoulders, shuddering with each pound of his hungry, cock.

“Tenzou, Tenzou, oh gods, yes, yes, don’t stop – please, more, more—“

Iruka is beside himself, no longer aware of what he’s saying anymore, as Tenzou’s cock pistons in and out of his body, desperate, hungry, until his balls are tightening and he’s taking Iruka’s mouth in his again, hips jerking desperately until he comes. Oh gods, he comes like he hasn’t touched himself in months, thick, white heat blinding him, flooding Iruka’s body, as Iruka _cries_ out into his mouth, his fingers fisting tightly into Tenzou’s hair, toes curling as he comes too. Hot, white ribbons smear their chest, coating them in a searing heat that makes Tenzou snap his mouth away from Iruka’s, trailing his lips down to Iruka’s neck where he sinks his teeth there, prolonging the _cry_ that is tearing past Iruka’s throat.

They stay like that, Tenzou keeping Iruka in place against the wall, until he slowly returns to his senses and ever so gently lowers Iruka to the bed, pulling out of him, cum dripping out of Iruka's stretched ass and making a mess on the bed and all over Tenzou's softening cock. Iruka is a shaking mess, shuddering as Tenzou wraps arms around him tugs him close. They lie on their sides, Iruka tucked under Tenzou’s chin, as Tenzou presses his lips to Iruka’s temple.

“You okay?” Tenzou murmurs, nuzzling Iruka’s nose, nosing him to look up and meet his gaze.

Affection glimmers like rivers of gold in Iruka’s eyes, as warm as his embrace, as soft as the kiss he gently plants on the curve of Tenzou's chin.

“Never better,” Iruka whispers.

And it’s like free falling again, riding the wind, sunshine and clouds at the tip of Tenzou’s tongue, as he stares back at the affectionate look Iruka is directing at him.

Looking at Iruka, holding him like this in his arms, inhaling that heady scent of orange and cinnamon shampoo and conditioner, losing time just watching Iruka like this, basking in his radiance, apparently, is happiness too.

Maybe this whole arrangement, living with Iruka, experiencing this day in and day out, isn’t such a bad idea after all.

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone that cares, [this is how Iruka's studio looks like.](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/449656344017731202/)
> 
> [And this is how Tenzou's apartment looks like. Just older. Fading paint, more visible cracks, less refined.](https://www.kijiji.ca/v-apartments-condos/oshawa-durham-region/bachelor-studio-apartment-for-rent-jan-5th/1543327785%22)
> 
> THIS ENTIRE STORY DID NOT GO AS PLANNED! LIKE TENZOU NEVER LISTENS TO ME! Also, phone sex is just fucking funny okay? Like half the time you're just LISTENING TO THE OTHER PERSON BREATHE IN YOUR EAR LIKE A CREEPER. I was hoping for better smut but because my plans were FOILED by one TREE PERSON, this is what I ended up with. Which I'm still hoping is okay-ish. I think. I dunno.
> 
> ~~Tenzou ripping sigs free from its velcro fastened hiding place? Hot AF. Or maybe that's just me. I'm weird.~~
> 
> Feel free to yell at me here or tumblr @pinkcatharsis


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